Words I'll Never Write
by MidnightMica101
Summary: An aspiring writer with her head in the clouds, looking desperately for inspiration. A bored god who is supposed to be dead with nothing to read. Crows reading notebooks. Not a very good summary, but we're going to change it. Collab fanfic between Micarocks101 and MidnightShadow101. LokiXWriter!OC. After Thor: The Dark World. Rating T because we're paranoid... and for cursing.
1. Prolouge

**(Since this is a collab fanfic between Micarocks101 and MidnightShadow101, both are going to be in the author's note.)**

**Micarocks101: WAZZUUUUUUUUUP? Sorry this is so short, it is a prologue after all.**

**MidnightShadow101: Review, follow, and favorite or I will send Bilshnipe to eat your computer.**

**Micarocks101: *gasp* Wait, you're from Asgard?**

**MidnightShadow101: *rolls eyes* You mortals are so amusing.**

**Micarocks101: *tackles MidnightShadow101* TAKE ME TO ASGARD!**

Loki raised an eyebrow. "What in Helheim are you doing?"

"Don't move; I'm almost done!"

My pen flew across the paper with a mind of its own. To most people, writing "because it was fun" was a foreign concept, but to me, it was a passion no one could quench. Words appeared on the paper like magic and I felt like my mind might explode from all the ideas swimming around in there. It was irrational. It was beautiful. I couldn't explain it; it was like a musician with music, or an artist with art.

Finally I smiled triumphantly and held out my work in front of me, examining it with pride. Loki curiously peered over my shoulder at my writing and raised an eyebrow yet again.

"You do realize your grammar is horrid, right?" He asked in a bored tone.

I blinked.

Silence.

…

"GOD DAMNIT!"


	2. A Crow Is Reading My Notebook

**Micarocks101: PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE! Hi there again! Hope you liked th****e prologue. And there's a reason behind the bad grammar and 3rd person. You'll see. I'm a genius.**

**MidnightShadow101: You mean_ we're_ geniuses.**

**Micarocks101: *oblivious* See? MidnightShadow101 agrees!**

**MidnightShadow101: *facepalm* Just enjoy the chapter and please review, favorite, and follow or oranges will invade your house.**

She sighed in boredom and tapping her pen against her chin. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't think of anything. Her mind was blank. It was a beautiful day outside; birds chirped around her and sunlight streamed through the leaves on the trees, making the park around her and the small wooden bench she was sitting on almost glow green, but no matter how pretty it was, no idea came to her.

She growled in frustration and crosssed out a few words in her notebook with her pen.

In front of her a group of crows were pecking happily at a few seeds that she had scattered. She found crows strangely beautiful, and they good inspiration. One cawed loudly, which normally would have annoyed her, but she didn't really care at the moment. One or two words describing the black birds were scribbled on her notebook, but not enough to actually be interesting. She soon scratched them out anyway.

She didn't know how long she sat there, just thinking, letting her thoughts wander and once in a while scattering throwing seeds to keep the birds there. Occasionally an idea popped in her head, but then left just as quickly as it had come. She sighed in frustration and set her notebook down beside her on the bench and rose to her feet. She took a deep breath, and…

"_Why can't I think of anything?! Gah!_" She yelled in anoyance. The birds croaked loudly in surprise. A second too late she realized her mistake as they spread their huge gigantic wings and took to the air. She mentally cursed herself and started to chase after them desperately.

"Wait, no! Don't leave me! Just a few more minutes!"

People around her stared as if she had just escaped an insane asylum, which at times she wondered if she really had. After all, it isn't everyday you see a panicked 21 year-old chasing and yelling at a group of crows. But she was desperate. If she didn't get _something_ written by tomorow, her editor would probably kill her on the spot. She gulped in fear, remembering the last time she had missed a deadline. Not exactly happy-fun times…She realized with a start that she had lost the birds while she was thinking and cursed herself. Why did that never happen in books?!

She headed back to the bench, dejected and annoyed, wondering if she should get lunch and maybe that would help her think.

But when she got back to her notebook, she froze, met with one of the bizarrest weirdest things she had ever seen in her life.

A crow had hopped up on the bench, and was attempting to turn the pages of her notebook with its large black claws.

She liked to think that she was always prepared for any situation. She prepared come-backs in advance for insults. She thought of things to say in case of emergensies. But she had never prepared for the _there-is-a-crow-reading-my-notebook _scenario.

She decided to start simple. "Uh..."

The crow's head snapped towards her, surveyed her, and then went back to the notebook. That was unexpected as well. She had thought that might have been her just going insane, but the bird paid her no attention.

She tried again. "Uh... hi?" It might have been more suitable to say _What the hell are you doing to my notebook _but that would have been rude.

She mentally kicked herself. Great. Now she was talking to a bird. Absolutely fabulous. A childish giggle escaped her throat at the word 'fabulous'.

"Hello."


	3. Birds Can Bake Cakes

**Micarocks101: Sorry we haven't updated in so long...**  
><strong>MidnightShadow101: -_- You don't have to say sorry on every single chapter...<strong>  
><strong>Micarocks101: *pouts* Fine. We do not own the Avengers. And remember, THERE IS A REASON BEHIND THE BAD GRAMMAR!<strong>

She mentally kicked herself. Great. Now she was talking to a bird. Absolutely fabulous. A childish giggle escaped her throat at the word 'fabulous'.

"Hello."

She stared at the bird in shock, her caramel-brown eyes wide.

"Yup. Going insane. Bye bird that doesn't exist. I'm going to find an insane asylum." She muttered and turned to leave, but froze as the bird spoke again.

"Please don't; this writing is quite impressive. I've never seen this style of literature on Asgard."

She unfroze and whipped head head around, paying no heed to her short blond hair as it whipped her in the face. Someone had to be seeing this. But no one was paying even the slightest attention to her. The few kids who were there were childishly running around the playground. One of them had fallen to the ground and was hugging his scraped knee crying while his mom scolded him. But none were looking my way. She cautiously approached the midnight-black bird. He continued reading. She hesitated, then spoke.

"Are… are you… real?" She questioned the bird. This day had already been weird enough, she thought, so why not? The crow looked at her. Somehow, it seemed strangely human. She could swear it was staring at her, maybe bored, maybe interested, she couldn't tell.

"As opposed to fake?" It questioned calmly in a silky voice.

"Um..." She stammered, totally speechless.

The bird turned another page with his clawed foot, scanning each page. "Interesting." He looked up at her again, and if birds could look intrigued, then she guessed he would look intrigued. "What is this 'FanFiction' you speak of?"

"EEP!" She cried out and scooped it up, a blush coming over her cheeks. "Trust me, it's evil. You don't want to read it."

"On the contrary," He (She guessed that it was a he, because his voice was pretty masculine) hopped off the bench and looked up expectantly at her. "it looks fascinating." He held out his foot for the notebook.

"Oh, hell naw, birdy! You don't want to go down that path! It's a dark and dangerous path filled with fangirls!"

"Nicely phrased. But you must explain your modern venacular. What is a fangirl?"

"You don't need to know."

"Don't assume. What if I come across it on a pop quiz in my Language Arts class?"

"Birds don't take Language Arts classes!"

"Yes, and they don't talk and ask for clarification on writing either."

She had to admit, he had a point.

"You're not a normal bird."

"As I believe you modern children would say, no freaking duh."

"Well, then what are you?"

"I'm a god."

Silence.

And then,

"Bye. I'm gonna check into the insane asylum." She started to walk away from the bird, seriously questioning her sanity.

"If you'll give me a moment to explain myself..." She heard the flapping of wings and suddenly realized that he had landed on her shoulder.

She regarded him with suspicious eyes. "You better not poop on me."

"Do you think me so uncivilized?"

"Considering the fact that you're a bird..."

"I thought that we had already established that I am not a bird."

"Yeah, you're a god." She rolled my eyes to express her skepticism.

"Would you like me to demonstrate some of my supernatural abilities?"

"Other than talking with an English professor's vocabulary? Sure, why not?"

"Then you might want to steady yourself."

And then she felt his claws digging into her shoulder, and felt my feet leaving the ground.

Of course, at that she completely freaked out and started screaming. But the scream was caught in my throat as the grass disappeared beneath me and was replaced by dirt. She was hit by instant vertigo, and collapsed to the floor.

Mr. Crow neatly flapped off my shoulder and onto a tree. "Satisfied?"

"What... where..."

"We have only teleported a few hundred yards, to the other side of the park."

She looked around and realized that he was right. The playground and the bench had disappeared, replaced by an open grass field ringed by a few trees. Earlier, I'm sure a football game had been going on; there were a couple balls strewn about.

"I'm officially insane."

"Or you're just too stubborn to admit that I'm right." He sounded so smug.

"Stubbornness and insanity go hand in hand."

"In some cases." He dropped back onto the grass and cocked his head at her. "Convinced?"

"Somewhat. I'm convinced that I'm crazy."

"You are very obstinate. Very well, what other miracles to I have to perform to get you to believe me?"

"What other miracles can you perform?"

"Almost whatever you like."

"Can you make a cake?"

"...what kind of request is that?"

"Well, you're obviously a guy, and guys can't cook."

Now he sounded offended. "That is completely untrue… mostly."

"Ha! You admit that I am at least partially right!"

"Partially. My brother couldn't cook if you placed him in culinary art school for a year and made him read cookbooks the entire time. I, on the other hand, can cook with both hands tied behind my back."

"Mama's boy."

She didn't know how she knew, but he suddenly looked bitter. "Yes, I guess I am."

Silence descended, in which he looked somewhat murderous (or about as murderous as crows can look [then again, a group of crows is called a murder of crows]) but then she went on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.

"Alright then, let's say that, hypothetically, you're really a god. Why are you talking to a 'mortal?'"

"I was bored."

She blinked. "So, I'm just a tool to get rid of your boredom?"

"Indeed."

"Well that was rude."

"Did you prefer if I lied to you? See, this is why I don't tell people the truth. I find that if I'm completely honest, others are either affronted or wish to put me in a rubber room."

She blinked in confusion again. "Because you're rude? That seems a little overkill."

"Not because I'm rude. Because I find no interest in fighting whereas my brethren seem to worship it. I am more of a reader, and I tell them so, but they think I'm perfectly insane."

"I don't want to live where you live. I would die if I couldn't read."

"Think of how I feel."

"Well, if you're a god, you can't die."

"There are worse things than death, believe me. You mortals have such wonderfully short lives; we gods must live through it, over and over and over again. If I was being tortured, then I would have to live and feel the pain indefinitely. You humans are much more fragile."

She shrugged. "A lot of people want to live forever."

"It's really not as glamorous as people say it is. For instance, I have to put up with my idiot of a brother every single minute of the day. Forever."

"Wow."

That's all she could think to say. Her mind flashed to her own brother, a businessman. He continued speaking.

"And I have to put up with my adopted father every day as well."

She stared at him, something in that sentence not computing somehow. "What? Adopted?"

"Ah, yes, I forgot to mention. I'm also a Frost Giant."

Silence.

Then,

"That's so freaking cool!"


	4. Crows are Hot Guys LOGIC

**Micarocks101: ...we honestly have no good excuse as to why we haven't uploaded in so long...oops? ^~^'**

She stared at him, something in that sentence not computing somehow. "What? Adopted?"

"Ah, yes, I forgot to mention. I'm also a Frost Giant."

Silence.

Then,

"That's so freaking cool!"

The crow blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're a Frost Giant! That's so awesome! So you can summon ice and stuff? Oh! Idea!" She cried out excitedly and whipped out her notebook, scribbling away. "What else can a Frost Giant do?"

"Um..." He seemed genuinely lost for words right now. "Uh...they can cause frostbite by touching others, they're immune to cold, they are all but invulnerable to minor physical attacks..."

"Seriously!?" She scribbled things down furiously, mind racing. Maybe she would be able to get this deadline down after all. "That's awesome! Oh my god, my mind's going to explode!"

She looked up for a second at the bewildered crow.

"By the way, I never got your name." She grinned, overjoyed.

He still seemed rather puzzled, but gave it to her.

"Loki." He replied. "And yours?" She smiled like a child being given a new toy on christmas.

"Sarah."

~Loki's P.O.V~

What in Helheim was wrong with this mortal?

I was expecting her to start screaming and running away, or at least laugh and call herself crazy again, but instead she immediately accepted my word for truth (generally not a good idea, but in this case it was understandable) and started "geeking out" as modern Midguardians these day say.

I studied her closely, now that her head was bowed over her notebook. As she scribbled away, , long strands chocolate brown hair falling around her face. The dark color reminded me of Sif. Her caramel colored eyes were wide with a kind of childish joy, and I could practically see ideas sparking off of in her head like popcorn, which was surprisingly small compared to the rest of her body. She looked to be about 20 or 21 years old, but her childish behavior failed to reflect that. Her skin was tanned, speaking of many hours in the sun. She didn't seem to notice my gaze, instead writing with incredible speed. I doubt she would notice me if I transformed back to normal and whacked her upside her head. (In fact, as soon as that thought occurred I was tempted to test it, but I resisted the urge.)

She looked at me with wonder-filled eyes.

"Hey, since you're a god, this isn't your real form, right? Can you transform or something into your real form? I want to get this down on paper!"

I hesitated. Normally, I would have refused and said some witty comeback, but I was interested to see what she would do. From what I had read, she was quite a good author, despite the strange 'ships' I had seen in it. And she was writing more. I hesitated. No one but her was looking, so I assumed it would be safe.

"Alright."

I transformed back to my normal self.

Her eyes widened and she stopped writing, her pen poised above her paper. Her mouth dropped in complete shock.

I mentally cursed myself. Of course. My face had been plastered across screens all across the continent during the battle of New York. She was scared now. But then she muttered something under her breath so soft and quiet that I only caught one word.

She said...hot?

What did that mean? More Midgardian slang?

"Sorry, I didn't catch that."

She seemed to snap out of it, and blushed, looking away as if suddenly shy. "I... I said that your outfit looked hot! I mean, seriously, it must be a hundred degrees in that thing. And, just in case you didn't notice, normal people don't dress like that anymore." She bowed her head and blushed again, fiddling nervously with a strand of her hair.

I looked down and realized what she said was indeed true. My outfit did look strange in this modernized world.

No matter. I waved my hand and my Norse armor and cape changed into normal jeans and a green short sleeved shirt. "Better?"

She muttered something under her breath again, something that sounded something like, "No less distracting, but okay." before ducking her head again, writing words down on her paper.

"What are you writing, anyway?" I tried to peer over her shoulder, but she hid it from view.

"Nope. You can't look at it until it's done. I can't concentrate with people watching. I don't work well under pressure." She scratched a word out, frowning.

"Writers are strange people."

"Yep. They're evil soul crushers."

"What?"

"Nothing."

~Sarah's POV~

Forget about his _voice_. _He _was probably the most attractive person I had ever seen.

Please don't misunderstand. It's not like I'm boy crazy or anything. I'm not. I haven't had a crush on a guy since seventh grade, and I blame that solely on hormones, and I've never had a celebrity crush.

But this guy was... on a whole new level.

His hair was black as ink and could be considered long, but the look fit him somehow. His skin was pale as paper, his eyes blue as the autumn sky and twice as bright. He had a sharp profile, harsher than the normal person's, but not in an unpleasant way. Quite the contrary.

He was very tall, looming over me, and his form was lean and lithe, almost like a cat.

His posture was languid and careless, and he seemed a little too perfect to be accepted, a little too beautiful to be real. But I guess that was just one of the many perks of being a god. (Considering that he wasn't lying to me.)

He seemed somewhat familiar, like I had seen him somewhere somehow but I just couldn't pin it down. (It seemed rather unlikely I had seen him at a SevenEleven or something anyway.)

I really couldn't help it. Before I could stop myself, I let it slip. "Oh my God... he's so hot."

Luckily, he wasn't really paying attention to what I was saying and merely looked curious. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

I mentally slapped myself and felt my face burn, undoubtedly sporting a brilliant scarlet color that would put a strawberry (or a pool of blood [well, that escalated quickly]) to shame. "I... I said that your outfit looked hot! I mean, seriously, it must be a hundred degrees in that thing. And, just in case you didn't notice, normal people don't dress like that anymore." I tugged at my collar and anxiously pulled at my hair, suddenly feeling rather self-conscious and shy. I looked down at my paper.

He also looked down, but this time at his clothes. He was wearing Norse-style armor and clothing, which probably wasn't very inconspicuous.

He then shrugged and, with a mere wave of his hand, transformed his clothes into something more normal.

I gave a quick nod of approval and went back to writing, crossing out my before statement and then jotting down a few new ones.

"What are you writing anyway?" He tried to peek at my paper, but I hastily snatched it out of sight, blushing again.

"Nope. You can't look at it until it's done. I can't concentrate with people watching. I don't work well under pressure." I scribbled out another bland word, my forehead creased.

"Writers are strange people."

"Yep." I was reminded of one my friends and I grinned slightly. "They're evil soul crushers."

"What?"

"Nothing."

It was silent for a little while, then he spoke again.

~Loki's P.O.V.~

"What in Helheim are you doing?" I asked curiously and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't move, I'm almost done." She muttered, her face scrunched up in concentration as she wrote. Finally she smiled and held out her notebook in front of her.

"Done!" She cried out gleefully.

I moved to look over her shoulder and see what she had written. The first thing I noticed is what she had written about. She had written about the last few minutes, but had changed her appearance. The second thing I noticed is that her grammar was horrid.

I raised an eyebrow yet again. "You do realize your grammar could scare away a bilgesnipe, right?"

She blinked.

We were both silent.

Then, out of nowhere,

"GOD DAMNIT!"

**Micarocks101: EEEEEEEEEY. SEE WHAT WE DID THERE. IT CONNECTED TO THE BEGINNING. IT WAS SMART. I AM SMART. I SWEAR-*interrupted by MidnightShadow101***

**MidnightShadow101: IT PHYSICALLY HURTS. MAKE IT STOP. *covers ears***


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